The Malfoy Weasley Feud
by Gryfforin
Summary: Told as a fairy tale, this story offers an explanation for the rivalry between two of the oldest wizarding families. A rivalry that is sure to last until someone corrects the errors of generations past. [Chap 4]
1. Once upon a time

This disclaimer will stand for the entire fiction.

J.K. Rowling, her lawyers, her publishers, and anyone else she has granted rights to for Harry Potter, are the only ones that own these characters. I might halfway own some of the ancestor's just because I had to give them first names, but even the last names are hers.

Finally a fic I can read to my 5 year old!

As it stands in my mind, excluding this introduction the fic will be 2 – 3 chapters long.

Thank you so much to AznDreamer802 who gave me the idea for this.

I hope you all enjoy!

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Once upon a time… 

Once upon a time, in a far off magical place, there lived a fair maiden who was called Ginny. Now, Ginny came from a long line of powerful Witches and Wizards who valued truth, honesty and justice. Their name was Weasley, and it was either wholeheartedly respected, or despised by all wizard-kind.


	2. The Legacy

The Legacy

For many years, wizards and non-magic humans, commonly referred to as muggles, had lived amicably, side by side.  Their existence was symbiotic; wizards gaining a sense of humility and appreciation of simplicity from watching their neighbors work twice as hard, without losing their love for life; muggles gaining protection and aide from their talented neighbors.

As the days of mankind went on, and mankind's thirst for power grew amongst wizards and muggles alike, the balance known at creation was thrown.  Power hungry witches and wizards used their power to control, rather than aide, their muggle neighbors.  Muggles, seeking power and fame, used their skills in manipulation to control their magic neighbors in an effort to magically oppress their fellow man.  

As the tension between the magical and muggle population of the world grew, wizard families moved and hid their magical talents; not wanting to be manipulated nor accused of abusing their gifts.  

As the years passed and the power struggle became bloody, a council of men and women from both magical and non-magical families were formed to address the issues that now plagued society.  Among these honorable men and women were two, Darius Malfoy and Estella Weasley.

The Malfoy and Weasley family names were two which commanded respect at this time of unrest.  Both had lineages which could be traced back through twenty generations of witches and wizards.  Young Darius and Estella had been betrothed since Estella's conception.  Born six months apart, they had grown up playing together, side by side with muggle and magical children alike.

One day when the children were twelve years old, young Darius had been playing with his best friend, Frederick Creevy.  As the boys ran through the fields playing, Frederick stopped suddenly.  Darius caught sight of his friend, and saw the look of panic on his face.

"What is it Fred," Darius called before trotting over and seeing the large snake poised for an attack before his friend.

Darius swiftly removed the wand that he had been presented on his last birthday, before taking aim at the snake, "Stupefy!"

The snake began its strike at the sound of Darius' voice, but froze once the spell hit, falling over to the ground, its head still poised for an attack.

"Th-that was amazing," Frederick stammered, "you saved my life."

The next day, Darius rushed out to the fields after finishing his morning chores at home, as he did every day.  To his surprise, his friend Frederick had a group of five other boys with him.  Darius slowed his approach, being careful not to draw the boys' attention, curious as to what the boys were speaking about.

"I won't believe it unless I see it," a brown haired boy stated plainly.  Darius recognized the boy as Zachary Granger.

"That's amazing," another boy stated.  "Can you imagine, you could have anything you wanted if you could do magic."  This boy was Lawrence Riddle.  

Darius listened as the boys started daydreaming of how they would escape their chores, or be constantly supplied with treats if they had the gift of magic.

"Hey Fred," Darius stated cheerfully, pushing thoughts of the conversation he had witnessed out of his head and revealing himself.

"Hey Darius," Fred replied, looking around sheepishly, not wishing for his friend to find out the boys had been talking about him.

"Darius, Creevy here told us that you did magic yesterday; froze a snake.  I didn't believe it.  There haven't been any known witches or wizards around here for five generations."

Lawrence spoke next, "I don't know Granger. I don't think Fred has it in him to lie, now do you," he questioned menacingly, facing Frederick.

"N-no," the small boy stammered, realizing he probably shouldn't have been so zealous to tell the other's how his best friend had saved his life.

"Well Malfoy, show us this magic," Zachary Granger stated, waiting for a demonstration of the talents that Darius had been instructed to keep secret all of his life.

"Yeah Darius, show us what you can do.  From what Fred has told us, there's a lot that _we_ could do with your talents," Lawrence stated slyly, placing his arm around the boy.

Darius looked around, his eyes landing lastly with a somber expression on Frederick before he turned and ran back to his home. 

Darius ran so fast and so hard that he took no notice of his surroundings.  He didn't see the bees gathering honey from the Geraniums growing wild in the field.  Nor did he notice the herd of horses cantering in the distance.  He ran so fast that he didn't notice the horse and carriage indicating that someone had called to visit his mother.  

"Watch where you're going," Estella Weasley, chided as she stood brushing the dirt off of her skirts after Darius had knocked her down.

"I, I'm sorry," he stammered, lowering his head, not wanting his young fiancé to see that he had been crying.

Estella, and kind a gentle girl detected the agitation in his voice, and put her hand to his chin, lifting his face until she could see his eyes.

"You've been crying," she stated simply.

"Boys don't cry," Darius retorted, deepening his voice and gaining his composure.

"I won't tell anyone," Estella assured. "What happened?"

After careful prodding, Darius finally relayed to Estella his experience with the young boys in the field that he and Frederick had played in every day since childhood.  Estella listened intently, careful not to injure the boy's pride as he explained how the boy Riddle had insinuated that he would like to exploit his magical gifts.  

When Darius' eyes had dried, and he had expelled all of his concerns from the day, he turned to Estella and was surprised that the person he saw before him was not the playmate he had entertained when her mother called for his, rather a beautiful young girl.

Timidly, Darius leaned over and brushed her lips gently.  The kiss was soft and sweet, and over just as quickly as it had begun.  It was a kiss of a beginning love, a kiss of innocence, and their first.

Smiling shyly, Estella lowered her eyes before raising her head as her mother beckoned her in to thank their hostess for her hospitality.  

As the years passed, Darius grew embittered by his experience with his old friend Frederick and the other boys.  He shut out all of his muggle friends and took comfort in young witches and wizards his age; especially Estella.  As they matured, so did their love for one another.  Neither forgot their first kiss at the age of twelve, but minding the expectations of appropriate behavior they did not progress beyond innocent kisses likened unto the first.

When the call came for the formation of the Council of Witches, Wizards, and Muggles to find a solution to the influence that magic played in man's thirst for power, the Weasley and Malfoy families were naturally called to send representatives.  Estella and Darius were now eighteen years old and to be married in a years time.  Recognizing their status as adults, and impending marriage, both families agreed that their children would represent them at the council.

"Magical Brethren," the council co-chair Theodore Granger spoke, "our families have lived in peace with witches and wizards for generations," he bellowed.  

"Muggle Friends," the other co-chair Ophelia Longbottom continued, "our families have protected and loved our neighbors for as long."

"We have formed this council to prevent the destruction of all man-kind as the thirst for power through the use of magic by wizards, or manipulation of wizards for magic has grown.  The freedom that we delight in is in danger if we cannot come to an agreeable solution for Wizards and Muggles Alike," Granger stated.

"This situation is dangerous for all of our families.  Wizards have risen up to try and enslave all of mankind, regardless of magical gifts, just as muggles have risen, with the aide of Wizards to do the same," Longbottom continued.

"Ms. Longbottom and I have debated this issue for the better part of our years, and we have come to a concensus.  We feel as if it time for our one world to become two; one of Witches and Wizards; the other of muggles."

A hush fell over the council as friends looked out at one another.  Many of the older council members had grown up playing together regardless of magical gift and could not fathom a world where their life long friends would not be a part of their daily life.

"It is a sad thought for us all, but we simply feel as if all knowledge of magic should be hidden from future generations of muggles," Ophelia interjected.  

"We also feel as if a body made up exclusively of witches and wizards would be more effective in governing, and restricting those with magical gifts."

There was much debate over this subject before Ophelia and Theodore swayed the opinion of the council.  There was a bitter significance in the co-chairs reaching that conclusion.  They had both been widowed for years, and had within the past decade begun a shy and timid romance.  With the separation of the two populations, that would mean the separation of the two seasoned lovers.

The council began mapping out how they would begin the segregation of witches, wizards and muggles.  It was to be a slow process, the responsibility to be passed down for many generations until the muggle world had effectively forgotten the time when magic had been a part of their reality.  

As the original council worked, Estella and Darius planned for their wedding.  The young lovers fell more passionately in love with each passing day.  As the final day drew near; the final alterations being made on the gowns and the feast being prepared, Estella and Darius stole away to a small stream not far from the Malfoy home.  As they approached their favorite spot beneath a large Maple tree Estella noticed a small boy lying face down in the water.  

Estella rushed over to the stream and pulled the boy out of the water.  "Darius, Darius," she called anxiously, "you must cast a reviving spell on the boy."  
  


"That boy is a muggle, the council has deemed that we are to be erasing all memories of magic from the muggle world."  

"Yes it has Darius, but at what cost?  Surely the price of a life is too high to pay for that separation.  I am not talented at reviving spells, you must do it," Estella pleaded, feeling the boys pulse fade.

"I saved one of his kind once, I will not do it again," Darius spat, the pain of a twelve year old boy welling up in his chest as he turned his back on the dying boy.  

As Estella held the dying boy, she felt his pulse slow until it ceased entirely.  She wept well into the evening, cradling the young boys head in her arms.  After many hours, Estella finally stood, carrying him home to his parents.  After leaving the boys home, Estella called on the man she was to marry the next evening.

"I cannot marry you," Estella sobbed, her eyes lowered to the ground.  "I cannot marry a man so cold as to watch a life; a life he has the power to preserve, slip before his eyes."

"So you love a muggle child that you did not know, more than you love me?  We have loved each other since we were twelve years old," Darius pleaded, his heart breaking, and that of his descendents for generations to follow, at Estella's words.

"I have loved you since I was a child, this is true," Estella began.  "But, I tell you that I, nor any of my descendents shall marry you, nor your descendants, until you repay the debt that is owed.  You owe the Evan's family, the life of one of their sons.  That is the legacy that you shall leave to your children."


	3. The Feud

The Feud

The father of our heroine, Arthur, a direct descendant of Estella Weasley, was known for his affinity towards all things muggle. Throughout the years, it was not uncommon for old wizard families to marry within their own family line, allowing for males to have the same surnames as their female ancestors. 

Arthur had been an average student in school, his heart and passion making up for where practicality and reason at times fell short. He like his ancestor's before him had an enemy, Lucius, descended from Darius Malfoy. 

Throughout the years, the Malfoy family had become cold and distant. Marrying only for self-preservation, as their capacity for love had died with the young Evan's boy beside the stream, generations ago.

Lucius Malfoy was a brilliant boy. A top student, Lucius was destined for greatness. A talent for deception and manipulation, Lucius thirsted for power. By some odd twist of fate, God had allowed for the marriage of magic and cunning that a young muggle boy had wished for centuries earlier. From the union of witch and muggle, Tom Riddle, descendant of Lawrence Riddle, was born. Unaware of the irony of their fated union, a young Lucius Malfoy allied himself with Tom Riddle in a plot to destroy the muggle world. 

Arthur remained true to his inherited of sensitivity to the muggle world. He was appointed a humble and often ridiculed position in the Ministry of Magic overseeing the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. An honest and hardworking man, that truly appreciated life, he worked hard to protect his muggle brethren from the likes of Lucius Malfoy, while raising a family of seven children with his wife.

As Riddle grew in power, he discarded all remnants of his muggle identity; stripping himself of his name and consequently his humanity as he sought to purge the world of those that he had once been likened unto. Taking on the identity Voldemort, Riddle formed an army headed by Lucius that was feared more than any in history. Lucius' army of Death Eaters spared not the life of women or children. None were innocent in their eyes. If one had not aligned themselves with the purification of the world, they were sure to fall victim to the hand of Voldemort.

A young witch and young wizard chose to stand against Voldemort. Voldemort and Lucius invaded the young couple's home one evening, having manipulated their protector into divulging their location. The man, James Potter, had actively been raising resistance to the actions of Voldemort and was the first to go. The wife, Lily Evans Potter, in an effort to save her child from Voldemort was next. Lucius stood by watching as his Lord raised his wand to silence the child forever. Although young Harry Potter was spared, by some divine intervention, Lucius did nothing to try and save the child. And so the curse was passed down another generation.

And so the feud continued; passed down from Lucius to his son; Draco Malfoy, and from Arthur, to his seven children; Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny. Ron and Ginny, the youngest of Arthur's children were the only ones young enough to repeatedly interact with the young Malfoy and that was where the years of inherited rage were felt most severely. The muggle world, having long forgotten the reality of magic; the Malfoy and Weasley lines appeared to be destined to forever live in hatred towards one another. The story of the destiny of their families had long been forgotten.

Why the fates took a chance on this generation of children we will never know. Perhaps the stars were aligned at all of their births; perhaps God felt the need to finally cease the generations of hate.

What we do know; is the fates did take the chance and put two Weasley's, a Malfoy, and a young boy descended from the Evan's line in Hogwarts' School for Witchcraft and Wizardry all at the same time. 

Young Draco was embittered by the family legacy that he had inherited. He looked down upon and berated all those who came from muggle families. He hated and despised all things Weasley, especially the youngest boy Ron. 

Draco also held an uncanny amount of hatred towards young Harry Potter. Perhaps it was residual from Darius' disdain as he looked upon the young boy as life slipped away from him, or maybe it was simply because he had spurred the downfall of Voldemort, a Wizard his father had idolized. 

Conversely, Ron Weasley had instantly befriended Harry. Their friendship formed and sealed over a cart of candy, Ron would without a doubt do whatever he could to protect Harry.

Alliances such as these, made it easy for the feud spurred by Darius Malfoy's legacy to replay as it had for generations before. Draco passed no opportunity that afforded him belittling Weasley. Ron, as passionate as his ancestor Estella, though not in the same sweet and soft manner, passed no opportunity to try and beat his disdain into Draco's face.

Harry, his purpose serving an even greater destiny than the outcome of an ancient feud, found himself repeatedly in mortal peril. Draco's hatred caused him to rejoice at every life threatening situation Harry was in; while Ron's love and friendship for Harry, fueled the ancient feud. 

And thus the feud continued throughout the boys' years at Hogwarts.


	4. The Tides of Change

The Tides of Change

Our heroine, Ginny, was the youngest of Arthur's seven children.  She was one year younger than her brother Ron, and attended school with Harry, Ron, and Draco. 

During Ginny's first year, she was targeted in an evil plot to bring back to power Voldemort.  Lucius Malfoy passed on to the young eleven year old a diary that contained a shadow of a young Tom Riddle before his rise to power.  Ginny, the youngest sibling to six older brothers, found refuge in confiding in the diary that responded in the manner of a new friend.  

As Ginny continued to confide in the diary about her insecurities at attending school and her love for Harry Potter, the memory of Tom Riddle accepted seemingly meaningless rambles of an eleven-year-old girl, and in exchange put into motion a sinister plot to cleanse the school of muggle born witches and wizards.  With every drop of ink spilled by Ginny's confessions, her power grew weaker and Tom's grew stronger.  

This ordeal culminated in Ginny releasing an ancient and sinister beast upon the school; causing students, a cat and a ghost to be petrified before finding herself alone in a dank chamber far beneath the dungeons of Hogwarts.  It was ironic that her savior was none other than Harry, the descendant of the boy that had died so many centuries ago in the arms of her own ancestor.

As the years continued, Ginny's hatred of Lucius Malfoy was extended upon his son Draco.  Her temper, as brazen as the fiery red hair that adorned her hair, would not allow her to stand down during a confrontation with the boy.  On one occasion during her fourth year after being caught aiding Harry in breaking into the acting Headmistresses office by Draco Malfoy, she cast a hex on the boy causing large bogeys to form in his nose and take on wings likened unto a bat.

The tension between the three lineages of Malfoy, Weasley, and Evans escalated to frightening levels after Harry, Ron and Ginny managed to confront Lucius Malfoy in a battle that left him to be arrested and sent to the wizard prison known as Azkaban.

Draco under the auspices of family pride confronted the three the following year.  "Weasel's, you are a disgrace to wizard kind.  To form allegiances against a wizard, whose only interest is to purify our world; I don't know who the greater disgrace is, the mongrel Potter, or you blood traitorous Weasels."

As Harry and Ron turned, their fists clenched, eyes set to do battle, Ginny stepped in front of the two.  Her eyes held a look of pity in them as she looked upon the young Malfoy.  "A wizard whose only interest is to purify our world," she questioned.  "Do you know anything about this 'great wizard' that you ally yourself with?  Voldemort himself was born to a muggle father, what right does he have to determine that the world needs to be vanquished of all muggles," Ginny questioned before turning and pulling Harry and Ron with her, Draco's mouth agape as they left.

The words that Ginny spoke haunted Draco.  He had been raised to be proud of his pureblood lineage.  His sense of superiority relied heavily, not only on the stacks of gold stored in his families vault, but also in the purity of the blood that ran through his veins.  If his father truly served a mongrel, regardless of his power or talent of a wizard, what did that say of the superiority of pure-blood wizards?

As Draco questioned his father's servitude unto the wizard once known as Tom Riddle, he took in the world around him with greater objectivity than he had in the past.  As he observed the boys Harry and Ron, he no longer saw a pathetic pure-blood willing to live in the shadow of a mongrel; rather Draco saw two friends, willing to sacrifice everything for the other.  As he compared the two to his father and Voldemort, Draco recognized that while Harry would undoubtedly lay down his life ten times out of love for Ron, Voldemort would not sacrifice the loss of a toenail for his father.

Draco also took greater notice of the youngest Weasley.  While at one time, she had been little more than a Weasley, again willing to lower herself to follow behind Potter, he now saw a beautiful young girl who completely adored the young boy.  She did not shadow Potter for the reasons that girls shadowed Draco.  Draco's followers tended to admire his looks, his money, and the power behind the Malfoy name.  Ginny admired Harry for his selflessness, his kindness, and for the love he showed his friends.  Betrayed by the seed of doubt placed by Ginny, Draco experienced an unfamiliar emotion, that of jealousy.  As he looked upon the three he had once held in great contempt, he desired to have the love of others that they had amongst each other.

Lucius wasted no time after his break out of the now compromised Azkaban in contacting his son.  It had been sixteen years since Voldemort had fallen to the young Harry Potter, and he was anxious to avenge his downfall and return to the power that had been taken from him on that faithful night.  

Draco having been groomed to follow in his father's footsteps was not surprised when the large eagle owl swooped down at breakfast time to deliver his father's message.  As he read the note, his stomach turned in both disgust and anguish.

_Draco, the time has come for you to fulfill your destiny.  Your master grows stronger with each passing day but he waits for the one who brought about his destruction to fall.  We await for you to demonstrate your allegiance to our cause.  You know what is expected of you, do not disappoint me._

'Master?  Allegiance," Draco questioned as he digested the letter.  His father meant for him to kill Harry Potter as a token of his servitude to a mongrel who had fallen at the hands of a baby.  Though Ginny's words had raised doubts on many things that he had learned in his childhood, Draco held on to the inherited belief that he should not lower himself to aide anything muggle, including his father's Lord Voldemort.  

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Thank you to BabyPan, Lady Ananas, Sannikex, and AznDreamer802 (who always reviews my chapters) for your reviews.  I'm sorry it took me a while to update, after the initial burst of energy, the fairy tale was hard to write.  I am hoping that the style was continued effectively as it appears that you all enjoyed it.  

BabyPan: Does Draco have to die, there is a clue to that answer in the last chapter.  Also Grimms Fairy Tales weren't exactly happy.  But I hear you :)


	5. Allegiances

Allegiances

Despite the note young Malfoy had received from his father, the remainder of his sixth year went by in much the same vain as the proceeding five years. Lucius Malfoy, having long ago surrendered any free will, blindly followed the will of his master; a small muggle boy's wishes finally being realized after centuries. The magic of wizards was now at the disposal of the Riddle bloodline. Voldemort's will became his followers' sole driving force; outweighing any family bonds, pride or ties.

It was this that led to Draco Malfoy spending a summer suspended between pain and fear. His years had been spent living the life of an aristocrat; self-serving, succumbing to no one's wishes but his own. He had never imagined that his father, the one who had ensured that his sense of "deserving" was fostered in every way possible, would be the one that would attempt to break him.

After returning from Hogwarts for the summer holidays, Draco had been greeted with demands to know why the wretched mongrel Potter was still breathing. As he fumbled for reasons, pointing out his rigorous schedule including Quidditch, class work, and prefect duties; his father would give no credence to his excuses.

"Were you to succeed at any of those tasks, I might take them into consideration. Considering however that you have been bested by either the mongrel, or his mudblood companion in each of those activities, your dedication fails to move me," Lucius snarled, as he grabbed Draco by the collar of his robes. "The Dark Lord grows weary of waiting. He has called upon us, his followers, to carry out his wishes. He will not stand to see us defeated because my foolish son chooses to dedicate himself to his school boy activities, yet still fails to beat a mongrel and mudblood"

As Draco struggled to maintain his posture and balance whilst his father shook his collar with his fist; his mind reeled. _'He has gone mad; following blindly behind a mudblood who wishes to destroy his own kind.'_

A snarl formed upon Lucius' face as he observed his boy. "Foolish child, I see that you have failed to learn occlumency as well. Your mind is as transparent as a pane of glass. You dare to question the worth of the Dark Lord? Who has been feeding you lies," Lucius demanded.

A flash of red hair appeared before Draco's mind's eye as he fought to suppress the thought of the youngest Weasley and his conversation from the previous year.

_"Crucio_," Lucius called out, placing the unforgivable curse upon his son, a cruel smile coming to his lips. As Draco writhed in agony upon the floor, his mind was unable to focus upon any thought save one. _"I am going to die at the wand of my own father."_

Amazingly, and for reasons unbeknownst to him, Draco had managed to keep the identity of his source regarding Voldemort's lineage secret. In exchange for this secrecy, Draco had been forced to sacrifice many a night. His slumber gained recovering on the floor of a dungeon, or hanging from chains on a wall. Once his letter from Hogwart's had arrived, advising him of the materials needed for the upcoming school year, Draco rejoiced. It had been custom for his mother and he to spend the week prior to the end of summer holidays, shopping and wandering the streets of Diagon Alley.

In the weeks leading up to his escape from the madness of the manor, Draco's only saving grace was that he would be away from it all very soon. His father's cruelty grew with each passing day. As the end of the summer neared, Draco used all of his will to maintain his resolve despite his father's torture. By the week before he was due to leave the manor with his mother, Lucius had ordered the house elves not to send any food to the dungeons. Suspended by his arms from the ceiling of the dungeons and subjected to floggings and the crucio curse alternatively, Draco would only be let down once he had lost consciousness. He was allowed 4 hours after awakening of support for his delicate frame, during which time, he was chained in an old muggle stockade. Locked away from everyone except for his father's wand and chains, Draco found himself wondering whether he would be spending the coming year at Hogwarts or St. Mungo's.

Once the week had finally come to an end, his father released him from the dungeons to his mother's care. She wept as she cleaned his broken body, ordering the elves to supply them with a clear bland broth to assist in rebuilding his strength. Swallowing a lump in his throat as his mother mopped his forehead with a cloth, Draco had one question, "Mother, when do we leave for Diagon Alley?"

Worry overcame him, as he watched his mother's eyes dart up and to the right as if searching for an acceptable answer to give her only son. "Oh darling, your father has forbidden us to spend the week away this summer. I will be ordering your supplies by owl post, and they will be awaiting you at Hogwarts when you return."

Despite every effort, Draco was unable to keep the wavering from his voice, as his silver eyes shone pleadingly at his mother. "What is he to do with me, I mean, why has he let me go mother?"

A wave of nausea came over his body as his father strode into the room to respond. "Crying to your mother boy, I thought I had raised a man, not a blubbering baby. Our master wishes to speak with you, and it would not due to have you before him bruised and bloodied. Your mother will nurse you over the weekend to prepare for our departure at the beginning of next week."

"Do not attempt to defy me boy. Despite your ability to conceal the source who has been feeding you lies about the dark lord, the rest of your mind is still apparent to me. You will meet with The Dark Lord. Your fate will lie in his hands, so I would examine carefully your allegiances."

His weekend had been beautiful and bittersweet at the same time. He had not felt so close to his mother since he was small child. Releasing any questions of maturity; simply allowing her to cradle his head in her arms, as she doted on him. As he lay back one night with his eyes closed, his mother read to him. Reading fairy tales from his youth that told of days when young boys would grow into men; able to shape and choose their future. Looking at his mother with pained eyes, his only words were "not the heir of Malfoy." He could see his mother struggle to hold back her tears, undoubtedly wracked with guilt of subjecting her son to a father such as Lucius. Though he wondered the same question, Draco could not bare to see the pain in his mother eyes, so he turned to another subject. "Mother, would you do that trick that you would do for me when I was young?"

Narcissa's eyes lit up, as she looked tenderly upon her son. She had the look of a mother's initial glance upon their first born; one of awe and tenderness. Draco knew that the request had been juvenile, hardly one befitting a seventeen year old wizard, yet he was pleased he had asked upon seeing the look of joy and love on his mother's face. As she stroked his cheek gently with one hand, Narcissa raised her wand to the ceiling. "Galaxia," she breathed softly, the ceiling lighting up as the stars of the heavens appeared upon it.

Draco exhaled softly. To look up into the heavens had always brought a sense of awe to him. It was a humbling experience to know how small a part in the universe you played; and it took a lot to humble a Malfoy. As his eyes darted back and forth, identifying the constellations one by one, he didn't realize his mother had said the second part of the incantation until he saw the sky gain depth, gaining a third dimension. Cast out into the universe, amongst the stars, Draco turned slightly to wrap his arms around his mother's waist, burying his head in her midsection as they floated amongst the constellations. Caught somewhere between wakefulness and the land of dreams, Draco barely heard his mother whisper, "the possibilities for you in this life my son, are as countless as the stars." It might have been the nostalgia of the evening that they had spent together, but Draco found himself like a small child, believing that whatever his mother said had to be true.

The following week, Lucius took Draco to meet with Voldemort as promised. Draco had known that the Dark Lord elicited fear in the hearts of all that came before him. He proved to be no exception. As he looked upon the Dark Wizards broken form, a wave of nausea overcame him. His withered skin and beady red eyes looked like nothing that could be found in nature. There was no question that the wizard once known as Tom Riddle was living only because he had robbed death. Although he did not look as though his muscles could support his frame for even the most trivial of tasks, the air about him was charged with dark magic unlike anything Draco had witnessed before.

As he walked before the wizard and knelt to the ground, Draco could feel his thoughts trying to flee his mind, much like the edges of a flame jumping to leave a fire. Draco's mind reeled _'what is he going to do to me,'_ before he saw Voldemort's lips curl into a smirk. Realizing at that moment, that the sensation that his mind was reeling, unable to hold onto a thought for more than a fleeting moment, was in fact Voldemort exercising his skill as a leglimans, drawing Draco's thoughts into his own mind. Exerting some of the control that he had gained over the past month in protecting his mind from his father's probing, Draco fought to gain control over his thoughts. He was unable to completely block his thoughts, that took more strength and training than he had. He had however learned to guide his thoughts; only focusing on trivial aspects of a matter, so as not to reveal its true nature.

"Boy, do not bother to hide your thoughts," the Dark Wizard spat at Draco. "I have solicited fear in those far greater than you, I am unaffected by this knowledge. It does nothing to serve me and no longer impresses." Dispelling with the pleasantries, the descendant of Lawrence Riddle, now one of the greatest, and most feared wizards of all times, turned to the matters that had brought them to this meeting. Promising power, and respect were he to succeed in bringing the great Harry Potter to his end, Draco thought that he might manage to leave the meeting without the question that had earned him months spent bleeding in his father's dungeon.

As Draco mentally exhaled that he would not be forced to reveal the identity of, catching his father's eye, his lip turned up into a smirk, Draco concentrated on limiting his thoughts, _'red hair, let them see no more than the top of the red head,'_ Draco thought, his father's smile growing broader.

"Yes I was in your mind boy. So you _are_ ready to reveal the one who dares to defile the Dark Lord's name? Red hair, it's all too simple, but I want a name."

"Trapped you are," Lucius interjected as Draco thought that he was cornered and had no choice but to answer or face death or further torture. Self sacrifice never having been one of his strongest suits; he had questioned why he was seeking to protect the youngest Weasley countless times over the summer holidays when he was safely alone in the dungeons; Draco answered as vaguely as he knew would be accepted. "Weasley," was his one word reply.

* * *

A/N: I know it's been a while, but I couldn't just leave this sitting here. I hope some have returned to continue, and that others pick it up as well. I also hope that I effectively continued the style. I found myself cutting large chunks out, because I was delving into telling all of the details of every moment, which I think detracted from the Fairy Tale feel. Well, I had thought we'd be closer to resolution than we are at the end of this chapter, but we're not. Next chapter they'll be back at Hogwarts. I'd like to say the fork in the road will be there, but I'm not sure, so….. let's just see where it goes shall we?

Thank you to: **LovesFantasy**, I love your writing and enjoy talking with you, it's always great to see a review from you. **Katerina Rose**, I liked the irony of history having to repeat itself and be corrected as well. **Madison27** thank you as well. The update isn't soon, but I refuse to abandon this, it's one of my favorites!


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